Embers of the Heart ; George Weasley

Twenty-two

I woke to the soft murmurs of voices in the room, the gentle sound a stark contrast to the exhaustion that weighed heavily on my eyelids. The labour had been long and arduous, a marathon of pain and hope, culminating in the arrival of our daughter. Now, lying in the hospital bed, I felt a mixture of relief and anticipation coursing through me.

Beside me, George lay asleep, his hand intertwined with mine as if anchoring me to reality. I gazed at him lovingly, marvelling at the strength and support he had shown throughout this journey. He stirred slightly at my side, sensing my wakefulness.

"George." I whispered, my voice barely audible above the quiet hum of the room.

He blinked away, his eyes searching mine with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "What is it, love?" he asked softly, his voice thick with sleep.

"I think I hear someone." I replied, straining to listen past the sound of my own heartbeat.

As if on cue, the door creaked open, revealing Molly Weasley and Mrs O'Malley entering the room with tentative smiles. My heart swelled with gratitude at their presence, knowing how much their support meant to George and me.

Molly's eyes lit up as she approached the bassinet beside the bed, her grandmotherly instinct taking over. "Oh, she's absolutely precious." she exclaimed in a hushed voice, her hands hands reaching out to stroke our daughter's cheek gently.

Mrs O'Malley stood by the door, her expression a mix of awe and tenderness as she watched Molly interact with the baby.

"Isn't she just perfect?" Molly asked, turning to George and me with tears glistening in her eyes.

I nodded, my voice catching in my throat as I reached out to touch our daughter's tiny fingers. "She's everything we've dreamed of." I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion.

We spent a few precious moment together, basking in the glow of new parenthood. Molly and Mrs O'Malley cooed over the baby, exchanging knowing glances and sharing stories of their own experiences with motherhood.

"Would you like to hold her?" George asked, breaking the reverie gently.

Molly's face lit up even more, her eyes brimming with tears. "Oh, could I?"

I carefully lifted the baby from the bassinet, cradling her in my arms before passing her to Molly. The joy on Molly's face was palpable as she held our daughter close, her heart overflowing with love and pride.

"She's got your eyes." Molly remarked, her voice thick with emotion as she glanced up at George and me. "And George's nose."

George snorted. "Merlin, I hope not."

I playfully slapped him in the chest. "Oh stop that. You have a nice nose."

He chuckled, and I turned back around, my heart swelling with happiness as I watched my baby bond with her grandmother.

—

"What about Andrea?" George asked, writing the name down on the parchment he had in front of me.

"Andrea?" I asked. "No."

He sighed loudly and looked over at me. "Baby, you've said no to every single name I've suggested."

"Because they aren't good enough!" I defended myself.

"How about Landry?"

"Landry? That sounds like laundry. Pass."

"Clover?"

"What is she... green?"

George couldn't help but laugh, dragging a hand down his face. There was a knock on the door and he shouted a, "Come in" before Fred walked through the door.